Good grief. I can’t seem to get away from old man sounds. Everywhere I go in this house is filled with sounds coming out of Dad. You’ll laugh, I’m sure, but this is no laughing matter. 

The only peace I get is after Dad goes to bed at night. I get from 10pm to about 1am of peace and quiet, time just for me. This is my time to relax, not just my body but my brain. I guess it’s peaceful when I’m sleeping, aside from the furbabies playing and raising cane some nights. If I wake up around 5am or 6am to use the bathroom, I put in my ear plugs so I don’t hear when Dad gets up around 7am. I know what you might be thinking. What if Dad falls? Trust me. If he falls, I will feel it. I don’t mean intuitively. I mean I will actually feel the vibration in the floor if he falls. I feel the boom and I’m awake to check on him. It’s happened before. 

Just a reminder: I sleep in my lift chair because I cannot sleep in my bed. It’s a pain and discomfort thing. So, I’m stuck sleeping in the living room. If I don’t wake up during the night to use the bathroom, I get woken up when Dad gets up at 7am. All he does is make noise. He sits in his chair, not 5 feet away, and sniffs and coughs, sneezes and farts. He clears his throat. He blows his nose. This is all continuous, mind you. When he farts, I’m talking thunderous farts! I’m tempted to set my alarm to wake up at 6am to use the bathroom even if I don’t need to, just so I can put in my ear plugs! 

I have asked Dad not to let me sleep past 9am. That gives me my 8 hours, if I’m lucky. I can’t wait for the day when our new house is move-in ready, just so I can sleep in my bedroom! The way it is right now, it’s like having someone sitting in my bedroom who doesn’t belong there. I plan on getting an adjustable bed as soon as I can, but I can have the movers put my chair in my new bedroom, if nothing else. When we move, my sister will be here to help me look after Dad, and help with the cooking and cleaning, because God knows I can’t. I manage to fix us something to eat but that’s about all I can do. Getting off track, sorry. You want to hear more about the noises…

The other morning, I kept hearing a crunching sound. I thought Jack had caught a mouse and was feasting on it. It wasn’t Jack. It was Dad, crunching on ginger snaps. You know, those crunchy ones from the Dollar Tree.

Just now, as I write this, Dad farted standing in front of the heater. That’s all he does, all day long. This house smells like farts. I know. Laugh it up! He just farts and farts and farts. I am so tired of the smell. I try to stay in the kitchen as much as possible. I work puzzles, do diamond paintings, journaling…that type of thing. But the living room leads to the kitchen, which leads to the bathroom, so every time Dad heads to the bathroom…he farts…and he usually farts as he walks by me! So I have to smell it until it dissipates. Sometimes, his farts are so loud, I can’t even hear my audiobook so I have to rewind. Holy cow. It drives me insane! I know he’s old and every one farts, but geez Louise. Have a little class, right? Just because we’re related and live in the same house doesn’t mean we shouldn’t be somewhat polite. 

I guess I’m done complaining. I do appreciate my Dad and I enjoy his company. It’s just that things have gotten worse in the last couple months and his noises annoy the heck out of me! This is causing me great stress, if you can believe that. I just grin and bear it, aside from letting Dad know how bad his farts smell!!